A Blue Christmas and a Red Bike II
by Tinkerpanda
Summary: The extremely-optional follow up.  Sammy's having a bit of a rough time with the Holidays.
1. Secrets Revealed

_Well, Blue Christmas Red Bike was intended to be a two-shot. But then, I kind of liked it on it's own, you know? I felt like it was whole. But I still had this idea kicking around in my head about how it could all play out. So I decided to opt for the best of both worlds and post a very-optional second part. I didn't want to make it another chapter because I still feel like the other can be a seperate story to itself. But I wanted a way to just vent the rest, I guess. Anyway, thanks for reading. Sorry if it's confusing._

_I'm thinking there were be either 2 or possibly 3 chapters to this second part._

**.0.o.0.o.0.o.0**

"And then Sam says, get this, I don't do Christmas. Like. Like it's golf or something. Like it's some arduous task that he's somehow managed to escape. It's not optional. It's Christmas. You don't not do Christmas." Spike vented, waving his arms wide. The team was gathered around the table of the Goose, the pub they regularly frequented for an after-shift pint. Sam had begged out early, claiming he had to call a friend in Afghanistan before the time-shift got to warped.

Jules face contorted in a deep frown. "Really?"

"Yeah. Really. It was totally weird." Wordy leaned back in his seat, stretching cramped legs. "When Spikey here asked him what he wanted for Christmas he said nothing that a chubby white dude in a red suit could shove down a chimney."

"That's sort of cryptic." Jules muttered.

"Yeah, and Sam's not really one for games." Ed pointed out.

"Maybe it has something to do with his sister." Leah suggested.

The team turned to gape at her.

"What?" Jules' asked. "Sam's sister? Sam hasn't _got _a sister. He's an only child." Of all the team members she'd be the one to know, after all, she thought.

Leah's face flushed with embarrasment. "Oh. I didn't know that he hadn't told you. I just figured he'd said something. Oh. That's awkward. That's very awkward." She bit down on her lip. "I, uhm, I googled you all before I joined the team. I wanted to make a good impression, you see." She said, quickly glancing around the table.

"So you electronically stalked us?" Spike asked. When Leah hung her head in embarrassment he beamed. "That's my girl! If only I'd thought of it first."

"What's this about his sister?" Greg prodded.

"She died. In a hit and run accident while they were posted in Egypt. A car jumped the curb and hit her - she was killed instantly. Sam was there too. They were just kids. The driver was never caught."

"That's so sad." Jules murmured.

The team fell into a sullen silence before dispersing, each heading off into the chilly night, hearts a little lower than they'd been just hours before.

**.0.o.0.o.0.o.0**

Jules couldn't sleep. She'd done everything she could to try. She'd scrubbed the kitchen floor, taken a bath, drank a whole damn pot of that disgusting camomille tea. But still, she'd tossed and turned until she'd wearily dragged herself out of bed. She huddled over the computer at the computer, glass of warm milk, forgotten, at her elbow. The black cursor blinked on the startling, bright white screen. Daring her. Warning her.

She hesitated, hands hovering over keys before she hurriedly typed out the words "Gerenal Grant Braddock + Hit and run + daughter" into the google search bar. Before she could stop herself she pressed enter.

_No going back now Jules._

Hand quaking a bit she clicked the first link, a Egyptian newspaper article on the accident. She waited, heart pounded, as her computer translated the report, painfully slowly. When it finally loaded it read of a family, torn apart by tragedy. A young life lost. And the picture that accompanied it stopped Jules' heart. Sam, standing bewildered, knees of his jeans muddied, hand clutching a single white sandal. His eyes were huge. A smudge of blood marked his cheek, coated his hands. The world blurred around him - cops and crime scene tapes, witnesses and journalists. But Sam was frozen in motion, perpetually that scared little boy. Jules' heart broke for him.

The second link told her the photographer had won a national photography award for that shot of the little boy in shock and grief.

That's why, she thought. That's why it the shoes had bothered him so much.

Closing her computer shut with a snap, she laid her head on the table. God. She felt like such an invasive _bitch_. But it stung. He'd never told her. Not once. They'd been together months. And he'd never once told her that he'd had a sister - that he'd lost her. Sam had overcome so much pain and suffering in his life. His sister, his best friend. His teammate. Lou. Good god. She'd judged him as a arrogant, cocky asshole, bent on using daddy's pursestrings and connections to pave his way in life. She'd learned how wrong she'd been. But she'd never really been sure HOW wrong until just now. Creeping back through her empty house to her darkened bedroom, she crawled back into bed and pulled the covers over her head, like a child, and shed a tear for the boy who'd lost his sister and the man that boy had become


	2. Team is Family

_Hey guys - sorry this isn't perfect. I wanted to get it up on Christmas eve day, but I ended up being very busy with my family. A Christmas fic was something I'd been wanting to do for a while now, so I'm glad that I can check that off my list. It's not quite what I was expecting. And maybe it's a bit cheesy and unrealistic, but I'm sure you will forgive me in the spirit of the season. Annnnd, for anyone asking/wondering, yes there should be updates on my other stories very soon._

_Thanks, y'all_

_You're wonderful and Merry Christmas._

**0.o.0.o.0.o**

Sam leaned against the counter of his duplex's kitchen, staring out the window at the rosy dusk of the approaching sunset. The pinkish glow lit up the sky, ebbing as it chased away the black of night. Snow was falling, in great chunks and hefts, drifting past the window. Christmas, he though. And he didn't have another shift until boxing day.

He'd slept in that morning, a rare and indulgent treat. He'd put in a punishing hour with the punching bag he'd installed in a make-shift home gym. He'd reviewed the manuals and criticisms of a few upcoming weapons. Had called his mother largely because it would make her happier. He even made it through two episodes of the Christmas day CSI marathon.

He glanced at the clock and weighed his options. Hibernation was topping the list. Getting drunk seemed like a viable option. Until he realized that getting wasted alone on Christmas was as pathetic as it got, not to mention an uncomfortable step towards alcoholism that he didn't want to take. Sam had always had a good relationship with alcohol. His father had taught him well. Respect the drink and you can respect yourself. He hadn't understood at the time – he'd been 16, hunched over a toilet and thinking he might die of the worlds' most awful hangover – but he understood the generals' meaning now. Sam'd seen the effects of addition too many times. So he crossed that option off mentally.

He heard a rapping at the front door and frowned.

Who the hell could that be, he wondered, striding quickly towards the sound. His stomach clenched with worry. Was it about one of the team? Was it his parents?

When he yanked open the door, heart pounding with worry, he was met with a surprising sight. His team. And a scraggly, half-dead evergreen, leaning heavily, like a terribly old man. It's string of lights were strung across the branches which bowed with their burden. Shiny plastic balls jangled as the wind ripped through the scarce limbs and rattled them against each other. A golden star was perched precariously on the small peak.

"It's a Christmas tree." Jules explained hurriedly, scampering up the stairs to join Sam in the doorway. "It was all they had left at the lot. I know it's a bit … sparse. But we figured any tree would be better than no tree at all."

Sam's mind raced to keep up. "But why?"

"Because Christmas is supposed to be able having hope. And knowing that you're loved and that the people in your life need you. Christmas is supposed to be about believing in the good in people. It's about appreciating your friends and family and showing them. " Jules started.

"We're a team. And we're a family. So we wanted to show you that. We wanted to make sure that you knew that we're here for you. And that we care about you." Greg added.

"So you bought me a tree." Sam asked, still dazed.

"Yeah. Because everybody should have some Christmas cheer. You didn't get to have one in Afghanistan. So we got you one now." Leah explained.

"I, uhm, I don't know what to say." Sam said, tentatively stepping forward, lack of shoes forgotten, onto the cold boards of the deck.

"How about you say nothing and we haul this bad boy inside." Ed said gruffly, hand gripped tightly around the tree's stem to prevent it from warbling. "Everyone's congregating at Wordy's after."

Wordy gave a shrug. "Shelley's cooking up a feast."

Spike bounced between feet merrily. "And Momma's bringing Christmas Lasagna." He added, he hoped, persuasively. Behind him Leah rolled her eyes.

"Nobody should be alone on Christmas." Jules' said, laying a hand on Sam's arm.

He wasn't – not anymore. He had family. Perhaps not the typical kind, with a mother and a father, a picket fence and an ugly dog named Skip. But, glancing around at the men and women of Team One, he realized – yes. He did have a family. He was loved. And he loved in return.


End file.
